


Shattered

by Berrybanana



Category: Alma (2009)
Genre: Creepy, Depression, Dolls, Fucked Up, Gen, Horror, Magic, One Shot, Paralysis, Short One Shot, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berrybanana/pseuds/Berrybanana
Summary: Alma has been trapped in the Shop for years. Nothing has ever changed, no child has ever escaped... Until today.It's a shame she won't live to see it.





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a school assignment a little while ago. I thought I'd post it on here. :)
> 
> The short film Alma (2009) is a Spanish computer-animated dark fantasy horror short film produced by ex-Pixar animator Rodrigo Blaas. It received notable recognition at the Fantastic Fest awards!
> 
> It's a really great (and creepy) short film and I'd really recommend watching it!

**Before**

Endless cold. A bitter chill that nips at the joints, freezing them into place so they may never move again.  
That was the first thing I noticed when I awoke.  
The ice had crept into my mouth as it contorted to scream, crawling down my throat and raking its frosted fingers down my spine, swallowing me whole from the inside out…  
And then I was gone.  
Gone, not even a mitten left to indicate I was ever there in the first place.

Instead, a rosy-cheeked replacement stood silently on the shelf. It wore bright clothes and mittens too- both perhaps a colourful distraction to draw the attention from those shifting eyes and the uneasy feeling it brought; it was almost like someone was watching you…  
Of course, there was. In that shop, you were always being watched. The paralysed children stared down at any visitor with the unbiased gaze of heavenly warriors. They were omniscient gods, immortal yet powerless to act.  
So we waited.  


I felt the passing of time like a gentle wave lapping at the shore. I was dragged out into its current, treading silken seconds, watching child after child fall prey to the shop’s tricks.  
Nothing ever changed. The waves kept rolling, the children kept coming, the clock kept ticking and soon I grew tired.  
I stopped fighting.  
I let my head become submerged beneath the slate grey surface.  
Sinking, Sinking, Sinking. Endless, eternal.  
And then finally, it wasn’t. Everything changed.  
A child escaped! (And so did I).

 

* * *

**Then**  

Truthfully, the door wasn’t paying too much attention at the time; it had repeated this pattern so many times it was effortless. Child knocks, stay closed; child turns to leave; open; child enters, lock. No-one had ever tried to leave the shop. (Well, not in almost a hundred years).  
That’s why it shuddered in surprise as the young girl hammered on its chest, screaming for help like a wild banshee!  
What now?  
This had never happened before- was never meant to happen, ever!  
The door made itself taller, stretching its ivory backbone to its full height and loomed threateningly over the miniscule redhead, glass panes glinting in the shop’s light like teeth.  
Flinching, the child drew back, and for one brilliant moment the door was triumphant- the victor!  
Then the girl reached behind her, grabbing the nearest object- myself- and flung it at the window.

Time seemed to slow down. From the moment I felt her hand release mine, flinging me towards the frosted glass, I knew this was the end. I heard a strange, echoing screaming inside my head- wait, was that my own? I couldn’t tell anymore. I tried to form words (a desperate goodbye maybe?) but not even the ghost of a breath could escape the crack between my carved lips.  
The whole shop watched in disbelief, some with fluttering hope in their chests, others with cold fear.  Shelves leaned closer, lights flickered in excitement, the door shrank in fear.  
Then it happened.  
I made impact with the window, shattering both myself and the glass in one brilliant SMASH, sending tinkling shards of glass onto the cobblestone street.  
It was over.  
We were gone.

 

* * *

  **After**

I slowly came to in the snow, staring up into golden eyes.  
A girl.  
Wind tousled her hair, blowing cherry locks into her face, cheeks flushed from the cold.  
No glass hindered my vision and even in this dark alleyway she seemed to glow with life, a lit lantern in the night.  
Winter’s chill nipped at my joints, pinching until blood and movement returned to the stiff limbs, letting me shiver, breathe, feel.  
It was glorious. I was cold.


End file.
